The Watcher
Chapter 2-Moving In
By Magoo
It had been nearly two hours since Arabella Figg had that fateful conversation with Albus Dumbledore. Two hours since Arabella had undergone a sort of rebirth. Now, Arabella had gone from being a drifter with no purpose left in life, to having a mission, which to her was nearly sacred. The protection of the last member of the Potter family. Being the guardian of her two best friends' only child.
Heading back towards her childhood home, Arabella was filled with anticipation. Tonight she had to prepare. Then tomorrow, she could see Harry. Soon she had reached number 42 Magnolia Crescent, which would be her home for the next several years. It was at once old and new to her. Arabella gazed up. The full moon had nearly set. Good luck Remus, she thought. Wherever you are.
The house itself was not in the best condition. The Death Eater attack that had killed her mother had taken its toll on the structure. Some of the windows were cracked, and large chunks of the siding were missing. From the look of it, no one had bothered to touch the house since her mother had died. Most likely, it was regarded almost as a spook house of some sort. Something would definitely have to be done.
Arabella briefly considered just whipping out her wand and doing all the repairs herself. But, she rationalized, the Muggles might get suspicious if this house suddenly repaired itself overnight. So that idea was abandoned. Instead, Arabella took the key that Dumbledore had presented her with and unlocked the door.
It swung open easily. Stepping through, Arabella peered into the front hallway. A thin film of dust had settled over things. The gilded mirror that had stood at the entryway to the living room had a large crack running down the center. Arabella was drawn towards it, almost as if she was in a dream. As she stepped, she left a trail of footprints behind her, disturbing the house, almost as if to say that she no longer belonged here. Reaching over to the light-switch on the wall, she flicked it up but nothing happened. The electricity must be off, she realized. That probably means that the other utilities are, as well. This is going to be more work than I thought.
For now though, all Arabella wanted was sleep. She had been up for nearly 24 hours, had gone through an emotional wringer and had done some extremely draining Charms work. Moving almost on instinct, Arabella headed up the stairs and walked down the dusty hallway. Without even pausing, she opened the door. Her old room stared back at her.
It was virtually unchanged since she had left it almost twelve years prior. Stuffed animals lay scattered across the floor, gathering dust. The bed was still unmade, her pink sheets stretched out across it. Toys and games were half-stacked in the corner. But where was -?
Then she spotted it. Her porcelain music box. It had been a gift from her father, before his death. But that wasn't the reason that this box was so special. It had been the first sign of her power. The first thing that she had affected after receiving her Hogwarts letter. Arabella moved to the center of the room and knelt beside it. Memories, long repressed, flashed before her eyes.
Arabella knelt in her room, sobbing. She hadn't asked for this. She'd never wanted to be different. Removing her music box from the shelf, she cradled it in her arms. The precious pink ballerina, spinning gracefully to an endless waltz. This would never fail her. It was always unchanging. But then she jumped. The ballerina, had it just winked at her? She rubbed her eyes. The graceful ballerina stopped her pirouettes and curtsied to her. With a start, Arabella flung the box across the room. It hit the floor with a thud but was basically unharmed. But now she knew it was true. She was a witch.
Now, there was no sign of life in the ballerina. Her flowing skirt was cracked, but otherwise there was no damage. The smile was still there, and she was still in a pirouette. When Arabella opened the box gently, the waltz still played on.
Ari would be crying, Arabella thought. After all, this was her room. And obviously, Mum didn't care that I was gone. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Ari is gone, she reminded herself fiercely. This isn't your room. Your room is in Star Manor out in Wales. This is the room of a child who is long dead.
She exited the room, slamming the door behind her. Her final glimpse was of the music box sitting on the floor of the cold room, the last remains of a little girl's childhood. The crack in the middle widened and deepened, as another part of the young girl's past was lost.
The sun was streaming through the windows when Arabella awoke hours later. Rolling off the living room couch, she headed into the kitchen and quickly conjured up some lunch. Sitting down at the table, she thought over her plans for the day as she ate.
She had to go to Gringotts to change her money into Muggle pounds. Then, she needed to figure out how to get all the Muggle utilities, such as electricity, working again. A subscription to the Daily Prophet needed to be taken out, and then she needed to officially move in, in full view of the Muggles. Most importantly of all, she needed to introduce herself to the Dursleys and see her godson.
The sound of the doorbell ringing startled Arabella out of her thoughts. Who could be visiting her now? Outside of the Headmaster, no one even knew where she was.
Hesitantly, she edged toward the door. Peering through the door, she gasped, and then smiled. "Come in Professor Ward," she called, opening the door to allow entry to her former Potions Master.
Professor Ward smiled as he entered her house, smoothing his robes as he did. A jovial young man of approximately thirty years of age, Professor Ward had been the scatter-brained Potions Master at Hogwarts. Although he was not affiliated with any house, it was well known that he favored the Gryffindors. Amazingly, he had even managed to make Arabella enjoy Potions, although he had failed miserably with Remus.
"Hello Ari," he said. "It's so good to see you again."
Arabella took his hand. "As always Professor. But please, do use my full name. I no longer go by Ari." Leading the Professor into the living room, she continued, "My apologies for the mess. I haven't had a chance to clean up yet at all." She gestured to the layers of dust in defeat.
He smiled. "It doesn't bother me in the least. As for your name, I'll be sure to call you Arabella on the sole condition that you call me Richard, as I am no longer your teacher, nor even a Professor."
"What do you mean? You were the best teacher that I had at Hogwarts!" Arabella was stunned. These last few days had certainly had more shocks than she thought she could handle.
"I stopped teaching, effective last Christmas. I simply didn't have the heart for it anymore."
Arabella nodded. It was painfully obvious as to why Professor Ward, Richard, had quit. "What do you intend to do now?"
"Well Arabella, as of now I am running errands for Albus. He's had me setting up for your arrival in this house for nearly a week."
Arabella nodded. "It's nice to see that he's looking out for my interests," she laughed. "Fantastic job you did dusting by the way," she grinned. "Now, what did you actually do?"
Richard pulled out a wad of Muggle money from his pocket. "Well, first I exchanged nearly 100 Galleons' worth of money for you. So you owe me money," he paused for emphasis, "again."
Arabella flushed, remembering the end of term party thrown at The Three Broomsticks after their O.W.L.s in fifth year. James and Sirius had decided to sample all 150+ flavors of Butterbeer, and then had seconds of the ones that they'd liked best. The final bill had been absolutely enormous, and both James and Sirius had been unconscious by the time it was presented to them. Between the five Gryffindors who remained conscious, there had only been enough Galleons to pay for half the bill. Luckily, Professor Ward had stepped in and offered to pay the remaining 50 Galleons. It had been almost a month before the two boys had paid Arabella back, so that she could repay the Professor. But the party had definitely been worth it. Arabella had drunk enough Butterbeeraccino to last her a lifetime. Sirius' reaction to Butterbeer Viagra had been, interesting to say the least. Seeing Lily overdose on Billywig Butterbeer had been absolutely hysterical, and had provided Arabella with blackmail material for the- for the rest of Lily's life. This is no time for reminiscing, Arabella thought as she forcibly dragged herself back to the present.
"I'll pay you back now, Richard. Let me just get my account information."
Richard waved his hand dismissively. "There's no need. Your house-elves at Star Manor already took care of it, as well as packing some robes and appropriate Muggle clothing for you," he said as he handed her a suitcase. "They also came up with some potions ingredients, food, different research texts and assorted personal and miscellaneous items," he added, producing each item as he described it.
"Also, your electricity and other utilities have been turned on, the Daily Prophet will begin delivery tomorrow, and work crews have been assigned to work on your house."
"Th-th-that's very k-kind of the Headmaster," Arabella stammered.
"Well, the bills are coming out of your account. Albus is simply arranging it. It's taking most of your first four paychecks." Then Richard paused, noticing the look on Arabella's face. "You didn't know?"
"No, I didn't," she replied. "Although it does make sense, considering that I own the house." Suddenly, the implications of one of his earlier remarks sunk in. "Wait, you said that you had been planning this for a week?"
Richard began to mumble, something Arabella knew from experience that he only did when he was very nervous. He quickly stood up. "Oh no, I seem to have another appointment. A pleasure seeing you again Ari. Do keep in touch, and don't forget to come up with a disguise. You don't want Petunia Dursley or the Ministry to notice who is working here." With those parting words, he exited, leaving a shocked Arabella behind.
Dumbledore had set her up. He had set her up. Again.
Troubled by her thoughts, Arabella lay down on the couch, and curled into a ball. Set up, he had set her up. How could he do this to her? After everything, why would he hurt her like this? He was her mentor, yet he had betrayed her again. For the second time in two days. Why did everyone betray her? Something else occurred to her then, something just as equally disturbing. Why wasn't the Ministry allowed to know?
The questions bubbled up inside her, one after another after another. All of them were unanswerable.
It didn't matter though, whether or not he had set her up. This arrangement would help her. Now she had a job and a purpose. Soon, she would have her godson. So really, there was no reason for him to have set her up. He had probably just expected her to try something, so he had encouraged her. Yes that had to be it. So why did this bother her so much?
Pushing the troublesome thoughts aside, Arabella began to prepare for the work crews that were due to arrive at her house at any moment. She certainly couldn't be seen looking like Arabella Figg, the well-known Gryffindor, if the crews were wizards. If they were Muggles, on the other hand, then she had best look like the owner of the house. Standing in front of the mirror, Arabella pointed her wand at herself, concentrated on her desired appearance and cried, "Vieille!"
The changes began almost immediately, with Arabella's swaying black hair melting into a light shade of gray. Her flawless complexion wrinkled, and her figure became dumpier. She looked like her grandmother, right before she had died.
"That certainly wasn't nearly as hard as Gran made it out to be," Arabella said as she examined herself critically in the mirror. She made a face as she noted her appearance. "I guess this would be the best disguise for now, but I had better not look like this when I'm 70," she informed her reflection. "I'm going to look like Gran did when I first met her: young, silver-haired and strong. I'm not going to end up all old and weak, like my mother was, like Gran was after the attack…"
For one of the few times in her life, Arabella's stubbornness became an asset. Although she had not become an Animagus, like the boys had, she was still rather adept at form changing. Beginning to make adjustments to her form she was soon satisfied. She wasn't as dumpy anymore, but she wasn't a great beauty either. It would have to do.
The rest of the day was a flurry of activity. The work crew, which turned out to be a group of Muggles, were actually competent at their jobs. They assured her that her house would be ready within a few days. Of course, this didn't prevent her from considering different enchantments that would make them work faster. Patience after all, was a virtue, and as a Gryffindor, it was one that she did not possess.
That night, Arabella tried to stay over at her new house. It really was unbearable. The work crews were almost constantly on duty. And they were preventing her from seeing her godson.
In desperation, Arabella began to dig through her texts. In this case, a bit of research was justified. It took hours, but she finally managed to find a useful spell. As she slammed the cover of "The Big Book of Spells, Part Two" shut, a huge cloud of dust rose into the air, causing a brief coughing fit.
Grabbing her wand, she aimed it at the dust and said, "Particulation Condensar!" One of the more crude spells, the book had said, but nevertheless effective.
The dust was supposed to join up in a big ball in the center of the room, then all Arabella had to do was perform a simple shrinking charm. However, there was apparently a reason that this spell was so rarely used, as Arabella was soon enveloped in a huge cloud of dust. Dust bunnies were pelting her from every direction, and the dust was so thick that she could barely breathe. Moments later, the dust had condensed into a ball so large; it took up the majority of the room.
"Reducio," she said, pointing her wand at the giant dust ball.
Quickly, Arabella ran an inspection of her house. All the floors were clean. The work crews had managed to repair the front of the house, and everything else she could repair herself without attracting too much undue attention. Quickly, she let all the workers go, and was able to relax in peace.
Settling down into her mother's, no it was hers now, bedroom, Arabella mentally congratulated herself on a job well done. Now all she had to do was wait until morning. Then her godson. And this time, she really meant it.
Reaching for the wand near her bed, she gestured towards the lights. "Nox totalus," she said clearly, and as the lights went out, she slept.
To be continued….
Disclaimer-If you recognize it, it's not mine. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. Not me. If it were mine, two things would occur. Book V would already be out with loads of R/H and H/G snogging, and I wouldn't be worrying about the cost of college. However, Professor Ward and a Muggle work crew belong to me, as does Arabella Figg's personality. Most of the butterbeer flavors belong to Gryffindor Tower and/or Princess of Venus.
Author's Note-I wrote more! Can you believe it? Anyway, I have a list of people to thank, again.
1-To my reviewers. You guys ROX!
2-To Liz, Leesie, Anne, Paula, Joyce, and Amy for yelling at me to write this. I really was scared to actually type it up.
3-OBHGF, just because you ROX!!!!!
4-To Anne and Zsenya, my fabulous beta readers.
5-To the real Mr. Ward, who was nice enough to let me use his name (and personality, sort of anyway) as a basis for my character. That is definitely the best name for a Hogwarts Professor yet. Also, thank you to Mr. Ward and Mrs. Kleinman for letting me write during AP Environmental and French respectively.
6-Happy Birthday to me! I just turned 18!